By Kathryn Kuhlman

Listen:

“Before you pray for the sick, listen to My voice.” (Holy Spirit)

I couldn’t move until I heard from Him – What do You want me to say? What do You want me to do? He doesn’t give you a script. He teaches you minute by minute. When I rushed ahead and felt the pressure of the moment, those are the times He left me. I had stepped out from under His direction. The difference is unmistakable. The power isn’t in your ability to speak. It is your ability to yield, to listen, to follow his prompting even when it doesn’t make sense. Sometimes He would tell me to stop everything and just wait, no music, no talking, just stillness and in those moments, you could feel the atmosphere shift; you could feel something holy settle in the room. Because when the Holy Spirit is given space, when He’s honored, He moves freely, and healing doesn’t always begin with a word; sometimes it begins with silence.

You see, praying for the sick isn’t about being bold in your own strength, it’s about being sensitive to His, and when you become sensitive, when you let Him speak before you speak you’ll find yourself saying things you didn’t plan; you’ll lay your hands on someone and suddenly know exactly what to pray; you’ll call out things no one told you; and you’ll see tears fall before you finish the sentence. That’s not you, that’s Him, that’s the voice of the Spirit guiding you in perfect wisdom and perfect timing; He’s the One who knows what each person truly needs, you don’t, I don’t, but He does and that’s why we must learn to listen, because when you listen you align yourself with heaven and when you align with heaven, miracles follow. So, I learned to stop trying to do the work and simply follow the One who does, and in every moment, every prayer, every whispered plea for healing, I wait first, because only when I hear Him can I speak with authority and that’s when the healing comes.

Obedience:

There’s a lesson the Holy Spirit taught me early on and it’s one I’ve never forgotten. It’s this, when you pray for the sick, you must let go of the outcome, you must let go of what you see, what you feel, what you expect, and simply obey. He said to me, “Your job is to believe; your job is to pray; leave the results to Me”, and oh that was hard at first because in the beginning I wanted to see something happen every time I prayed. I wanted miracles to burst forth on command. I wanted proof that my prayers had power, but He had to break that in me. He had to teach me that faith is not measured by results, it’s measured by obedience. There were moments, many of them, when I stood in front of someone who was desperate, who was clinging to their last shred of hope, and I would feel the pressure in the air, the weight of their expectation; my heart would ache with the desire to see them healed right there, right then. I would pray and sometimes I would feel the power surge, sometimes I wouldn’t feel a thing, and sometimes nothing would change in that moment; but even when nothing seemed to happen, I had to keep trusting, I had to remind myself obedience is the victory.

I remember one night I laid my hand on a woman who had been suffering for years; I could feel her faith, she believed and so did I, but after the prayer she didn’t stand up out of her wheelchair, she didn’t walk, not that night, and as I walked away my heart sank a little. I said to the Holy Spirit why didn’t she get up, I believed, she believed, and He said something I will never forget. He whispered, “Your obedience touched heaven, the miracle is on its way; don’t measure My power by your timing.” I learned days later she did get up, not in front of a crowd, not on a stage, but in her home, in the quiet when no one was watching but Jesus. That’s when I learned God doesn’t always perform when we want Him to but He always responds to faith. Sometimes the healing is immediate, sometimes it unfolds slowly, sometimes it happens when no one else can see, and if we chase the visible, we’ll miss the miracle because obedience releases His power not performance.

There were also times when the Holy Spirit asked me to pray in ways I didn’t understand. He would prompt me to speak healing when the diagnosis was grim, to declare life when the doctors had already said death, and oh how the enemy would whisper “What if nothing happens, what if you’re wrong, what if people laugh.”, but I had to choose, do I trust what I see or do I trust the One who sent me and every time I chose to obey I found that heaven would back me up, not always in the way I expected, but always in the way that mattered.  I stood on platforms and in living rooms; I prayed in churches and in hospitals and no matter where I was the lesson was always the same – step out in faith no matter how small it feels. You may not feel power rushing through you, and you may not hear angels singing, but when you obey the Holy Spirit something eternal shifts and sometimes you won’t even know the full impact of your obedience until years later, but God knows and that’s enough. There were prayers I whispered with tears rolling down my face because I didn’t understand why healing didn’t come the way I wanted it to; there were nights I cried out, “Lord if you don’t go with me I won’t go.” But every time he reminded me obedience over outcome. We are not the healer, we are not the miracle worker, we are the vessel, the mouthpiece, the hands He chooses to use when we say yes, and oh how beautiful that yes becomes and it’s given without condition, not yes if you heal, not yes if the crowd sees, but yes Lord even if I never see the result. That kind of obedience opens the heavens; that kind of surrender pleases the heart of God.

I began to realize that obedience is the miracle, it is a miracle in itself to stand in faith when nothing makes sense; it is a miracle to keep praying when the answer seems delayed; it is a miracle to say yes when your heart aches with questions, but your spirit still trusts. So now when I pray, I do it with peace. I don’t carry the pressure anymore. I don’t need to see a performance, I need only to please Him and if I’ve obeyed his voice, if I’ve prayed the prayer He gave me, if I’ve stood when I felt like shrinking back, then I know I’ve done what He asked and I leave the rest to Him because healing doesn’t begin with what I see, it begins with a willing heart, a yielded vessel, and a whisper from heaven that says go, and when he says go I obey even if all I carry is faith and a yes.

Love:

I learned something precious along the way something the Holy Spirit etched into the deepest part of my soul when you minister to the sick you don’t just carry power, you carry compassion, and it’s not your compassion it’s His. The moment you begin to feel his heart for the broken, the hurting, the desperate, that’s when you begin to truly understand what it means to pray with authority, not because you’re powerful but because you’re moved by the very love of God. So many times, people want to see miracles, but they forget that Jesus was moved with compassion before he ever laid hands on the sick. He wasn’t performing He was loving. He wasn’t trying to impress, He was reaching deep into the pain of another and lifting them up with the gentleness of heaven and the Holy Spirit began to teach me this. He said, “You will never release my healing unless you feel my heart.”

I remember standing on a platform in front of hundreds of people and there was a young boy in the front, his body was frail, and his mother had tears in her eyes. I saw the pain but I didn’t just see it, I felt it; it was as if the spirit allowed me to feel the sorrow, the years of hope and disappointment, the prayers prayed in secret, the silent nights of pleading, and suddenly I couldn’t hold back the tears, not because I was overwhelmed but because I had stepped into the flow of His compassion. That boy wasn’t just another person in the crowd, he was known by God, fully known, fully loved, and as I reached out my hand to pray, I didn’t feel the pressure to perform, I felt the privilege to partner with the heart of Jesus. It wasn’t about shouting or stirring the room, it was about letting the love of God pour through me and that’s when healing flowed; that’s when the atmosphere shifted, because where compassion moves, heaven responds. I learned to slow down, to look people in the eyes, to really see them, not just their illness, their humanity, their worth, their dignity.

You see we must never treat people like projects; they are not opportunities for miracles; they are sons and daughters of God. Each one carries a story, and the Holy Spirit knows every detail. He knows what broke their hearts. He knows what keeps them up at night and if we will take the time to lean into His heart, He will show us how to love them the way Jesus would. There were moments when He wouldn’t let me pray right away. He would say just hold their hand or just listen, and it felt strange at first, but then I began to understand; sometimes healing doesn’t start with words; sometimes it starts with presence, with someone simply being there full of the Spirit, full of love, full of compassion, and in those silent moments something holy would take place. You could feel the walls come down; you could feel burdens lift before a prayer was ever spoken. This isn’t about speed, this isn’t about results; this is about love and love takes its time. Love listens, love weeps, love sees, and when we pray out of that place, when we pray not to fix someone, but to love them with the power of God, miracles take root in ways we cannot even explain.

I remember one night a man came forward, tough, closed off, skeptical, but the Holy Spirit whispered, “His pain is not physical, his body is aching because his heart is broken.” So, I didn’t touch him, I didn’t lay hands on him right away, I simply looked him in the eyes and said, “You are not alone. God has never left you.” and he fell to the ground in tears. Years of bitterness, disappointment, the rejection, were broken in that moment and later, much later, his body was healed but it began with compassion, it began with love, that’s the power of the Holy Spirit. He doesn’t just come to heal, He comes to embrace, and if you will let him soften your heart, if you will let Him fill you with His love, you will begin to see people the way He sees them; you’ll stop rushing; you’ll stop striving. Simply love and from that place healing will pour like oil – gentle, pure, divine. You don’t have to be loud, you don’t have to be dramatic, you just have to care and when your heart is broken for what breaks His, you become the hands of Jesus, not because you’re trying, but because you’ve been with him, because His love has filled you to overflowing, that’s when you pray not just with words but with the heartbeat of heaven; that’s when you become a vessel of healing because love always makes room for miracles.

Presence:

There came a time in my journey when the Holy Spirit had to show me something very sacred, something I hadn’t realized I was missing, He said, “You must make room for My presence before you make room for anything else.” I thought I understood that. I thought I was already doing it, but He wasn’t speaking of a casual moment of prayer or a hurried devotion before stepping onto a platform. Where He was calling me was into the secret place the stillness, the space where everything else waits and only His presence remains and so He began to pull me aside. There were times I felt him gently draw me away from the crowd, away from the schedule, away from even the ministry. He would say, “Come sit with Me, let Me speak to you; let Me prepare your heart.” and as I learned to obey that call, I began to understand miracles do not begin in front of people they begin in the presence of God. You cannot give what you haven’t received, you cannot release power if you haven’t first been filled. And I learned that praying for the sick wasn’t about stepping into the moment with confidence in myself; it was about walking in the residue of heaven still resting on me, because I had just been with Him. There were times I would linger in his presence for hours before I ever touched a microphone and not because I was trying to earn something, not because I was seeking a new anointing but because I missed Him, because I needed Him, and when you come to that place where His presence is not your preparation but your passion, then everything changes.

There is a weight that only His presence can carry when you pray for the sick, when you stand between pain and healing, between despair and hope. You must carry more than words. You must carry Him and He doesn’t come where He’s not invited. He doesn’t come where He’s rushed. He waits for those who wait on Him. But I waited, I worshipped, I let silence stretch longer than it was comfortable, I let the tears fall in the stillness, and it was there in the quiet that the Holy Spirit began to speak, not always with words, but with his nearness, but that’s sacred knowing that you’ve touched eternity, and when I walked out of that place I didn’t walk out with more confidence in myself, I walked out with absolute dependency on Him. I knew then that if He didn’t go with me, I had nothing to give and oh how sweet that realization is to know that He’s the One doing the healing, the One doing the work, the One moving through our fragile yielded lives. People would come to meetings expecting power and yes power came but it didn’t come from technique, it didn’t come from perfect prayers, it came from His presence, and I knew deep in my bones that I could not fake that. They could not manufacture what only the Spirit can produce.

There was a woman who once came to a service completely tormented in her mind. Her body was failing but her thoughts were worse, dark, heavy, hopeless. She didn’t even want prayer; she just sat in the back; and do you know what happened? No one even laid a hand on her; no one called her out, but in the atmosphere of worship, in the weight of His presence she began to shake, she began to cry, and suddenly peace, real peace flooded her body and her soul; she was healed, not because anyone did something to her, but because the Holy Spirit was there; she encountered Him.

That’s what I longed for in every gathering, not more control but more of Him, and I learned to step back to let the Spirit move where He wanted, when He wanted, to not rush past a moment just because it didn’t fit the agenda, to not explain away the silence or interrupt what I couldn’t understand. Because when He comes everything changes and you’ll miss it if you’re trying too hard to manage it. Sometimes He would sweep through like a wind strong and sudden; sometimes He would hover like a soft cloud resting gently on the room and always, always He moved when hearts were hungry, when people were desperate, when space was made for Him to dwell. So, I stopped trying to be impressive; I stopped worrying about what people expected of me. I just kept asking Holy Spirit. “How can I make you welcome?” That became the cry of my heart; that became the secret to everything I ever saw in the realm of healing, not striving, not performance, just presence and so now before I ever pray for the sick, before I step into any moment of ministry, I go back to that place. I find the stillness, I meet Him in the secret, and I say again, “Have your way”, because the most powerful prayer you’ll ever pray doesn’t start with your voice, it starts with your surrender, and when you carry His presence healing follows like a shadow.

There is something so holy, so sacred that I hesitate to speak it unless you’re willing to listen with your spirit and not just your ears. The Holy Spirit not only taught me how to pray for the sick, but He taught me how to trust Him for the results and oh how freeing that was, how humbling. You see there comes a point where you must lay down your desire to see results your way in your time with your hands, you are the maker, and instead you must rest in the gentle assurance that He does the healing, and He does it His way. There were many times I stood before someone desperately hoping, believing, pleading for a miracle and sometimes the healing came instantly beautiful undeniable; it was like heaven kissed the earth right in that moment. But other times there was silence, nothing visible happened and I would feel that tug that human temptation to question to wonder did I pray right, did I miss it, was there something more I should have done, but the Spirit in His gentleness would whisper, “You are not the healer, I am. You are the vessel and that is enough.” Or, if we could only grasp that truth how many of us carry pressure that we were never meant to bear; how many times do we walk away discouraged because the outcome didn’t match our expectations? But the Lord never called us to produce results, He called us to obey, to believe, to release, and then to trust.

I remember a young girl who came with her mother to one of the services, she was so frail, so delicate, her skin pale, her eyes sunken, her mother’s hands trembled as she guided her down the aisle. And as I reached toward her, I felt the weight of her suffering; I felt the hope they had carried just to make it there and I prayed with all the loving in me, with every ounce of faith I had, but when she walked away, she still looked the same, there was no outward change and my heart ached. But that night as I sat alone the Holy Spirit spoke so gently to me. He said, “You saw her body, but I saw her spirit and I touched her in ways you could not see.” And that next week I received a letter from her mother; she said, “We didn’t see a healing in that moment but something broke; she has hope again; she’s laughing again; she wants to live again.” And over time little by little her body followed her spirit. Healing did come but it came as the Spirit willed, it came as a process it came in His rhythm not mine. We must understand that healing is not always instant, sometimes it is a journey, sometimes it begins in the heart and the soul, in the quiet places we don’t see, and if we rush to measure miracles by what our eyes can perceive we will miss the deeper work that God is doing.

There was a man once, tall and strong on the outside, but full of torment within, his body ached yes, but his soul was shattered, and as I prayed for him, I saw no immediate shift but the Holy Spirit said, “You just planted a seed, don’t dig it up looking for fruit.” Sure enough, weeks later I heard he had been delivered from years of inner torment. His body was healed, but only after the Spirit healed his heart. I share this with you not to excuse or explain away the miraculous, but to honor the sovereignty of God, because when healing does come suddenly, and it does, it is glorious, it is breathtaking, it is all Him, but when it comes slowly, quietly or in unexpected ways, it is still glorious because it is still Him. That’s why I don’t beg anymore; I don’t strive; I just trust, I lay my hands in obedience, I lift my voice in faith, and then I release the outcome into His hands, because He is the same Spirit who hovered over the waters of creation, the same Spirit who raised Christ from the dead, the same Spirit who whispers healing into bones, and breathes peace into chaos. He knows what He’s doing. He doesn’t need me to direct him. He needs me to yield and oh what peace there is in that, when you stop measuring your faith by how fast a healing comes, when you stop questioning your calling every time someone walks away unchanged in the natural, when you realize that miracles are born out of surrender not striving. Sometimes He heals the body, sometimes He heals the soul, sometimes He does both at once, but always, always, He is the One who does the healing.”